It's the Little Things, Brother
by TO-NARNIA
Summary: A series of small stories of the little things Sam and Dean go through. Some are fluffy, some not so much. But all of them display the brotherly bond between the Jerk and the Bitch. Basically, my SPN headcanon/BROTP drabbles. Warnings:Strong language (99% Dean), much feels (sometimes), possible violence and gore.
1. 1- Hot Day Breakdown

_ "Shit." _

_"Christ."_

_ "Ah, man… so fuckin' hot."_

_ "Mmm." _

Dean wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, giving an irritated growl at the amount of sweat that came off. He glanced at Sam, who lay sprawled across the passenger seat lazily, one long arm hanging out the open window. With a sigh, Dean cranked the key in the ignition once more, only getting a sputter out of the Impala.

_"Fucking dammit," _he cursed, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it into the back seat. "Of all the times for her to fizz, it has to be now."

Sam slowly dragged himself into a mostly upright position, rubbing his eyes warily. Heat always made the younger Winchester drowsy. "Dean, maybe we should get out and walk down the street. See if we can…" _yawn, _"get some help."

Dean raised a shoulder, bowing his head and wiping his face across the dry shirt while he reached into one pocket and pulled out his phone. "First lemme see if I can call a tow truck… Or Bobby, he's not far off, workin' a job in some town…" With a flick of his wrist, he opened his phone, eyes darting to the signal bars. But in their place was a big fucking red 'X', taunting him.

"No goddamn signal," he hissed through clenched teeth. He opened his door and stepped out of the car, walking a ways down the dirt road and holding his phone in the air, his free hand shading the screen so he could see as he searched for a signal. But no hope. He walked the other way, doing the same, but still nihil. Fuck.

He gave a sharp shake of his head and growled, snapping his phone shut and shoving the piece of shit in his pocket again before stalking to Sam's side of the car. He stood there a moment before he yanked open the door and Sam came tumbling out, as he'd been leaning on the door and snoring lightly. Dean felt a small pang of satisfaction as Sam cursed and started whining, standing and dusting himself off.

"Alright, let's go, bitch," he said and closed the door behind Sam, who mumbled "jerk" under his breath as they started down the road, side by side and steps in sync.


	2. 2- Pie Medicine

It was quiet. The radio was too low to be noticeable, the song too familiar to draw attention. Sam was driving this time, a rare time, but that was only because Dean was in no condition to sit behind the wheel.

Sam kept sparing glances at his brother, constantly thinking about how he looked like hell warmed over. There were dark, bruise-like bags around his eyes, his skin an unhealthy pale color, making the freckles Dean always claimed to hate stand out more than usual. The man was hunched over in his seat, arms wrapped around himself as he stared out the window, the corners of his mouth contorting slightly in pain when they hit any bumps in the road. His eyes were a dark green, losing all the vibrancy they used to have.

Sam hated seeing Dean look so weak. Of course, this was what happens when he gets himself electrocuted and damages his heart so severely that the doctors say he has weeks left…. Dammit.

Sam shifted in the seat, able to spare one more glance at Dean before his brother exploded.

"Fuck, Sam! Stop looking at me like that! I'm not dead yet, so stop lookin' like I'm in a fuckin' coffin already!" he said, but whatever volume or bite that had been in his voice was extinguished like a half-ass flame, and he broke off with a wince. Sam saw his hand tighten on the fabric of his jacket.

Sam turned back to the road in silence, watching the headlights bounce off the rain-wet pavement for a while.

"Hey," Dean murmured as they approached a small, brightly lit diner. "Pull in here."

Sam frowned. "Dean, we have to get to…"

"Sam." The younger Winchester looked over at Dean and his brother was looking at him, face stony and pale in the dim light from the moon and the diner he was about to pass up. Sam realized Dean looked like a zombie made of stone; break open the hard shell on the outside and inside was something that was long dead and gone.

He spun the wheel in his hands and made the sharp right turn into the mostly-empty parking lot, shaking his head slightly. They didn't have time for this…

Once parked, he saw Dean unbuckling himself and slowly pushing his door open. Sam sprung out of the car and raced to Dean's side just as he was trying to step out of the Impala, but Dean shoved him away. "Sam! I'm not gonna break, I'm fine!"

Sam's hands fell to his sides, but they twitched in restraint when he saw Dean's grimace as he struggled to stand straight. His brother took a deep breath, and while he was doing that, Sam took the opportunity to at least close the car door for him. It earned him a glare, but it was worth it.

Dean slipped his hands in his pockets, looking stiff as a board as he started walking slowly to the door. Sam rushed ahead, grasping the cold, wet metal handle and pulling it open for his brother. This time Dean didn't even bother with the glare. He just huffed as he shuffled past his long-haired brother and into the cool of the diner.

There were a few scattered guests around the plastic red tables, but this diner was so far off from civilization, stuck in the midst of a backroad highway, that it probably got this much business every day. Sam caught up with Dean, who was squinting at the menu, definitely looking for something.

"So… what do you want?" Sam ventured, pulling his wallet out and looking at the portion of the menu that Dean was. Desserts.

"Cherry pie," he heard Dean say. Sam sighed, shaking his head.

"That's what you brought me in here for? Cherry pie?" By the time he realized what he'd said, he was biting his tongue as hard as possible. He looked over at Dean, who was staring at him, thinking exactly what he was. "Dean… don't give me that crap that it's going to be your last pie or whatever. I told you, I have a plan. You're not gonna die as long as I'm around to help it."

"… Extra whipped cream, Sammy," was the only response given. Sam watched his brother shuffle away and slowly slide into a hard red booth, hands still in the pockets of his hoodie and dark eyes staring out at the moon like it was the last thing he was gonna see.

"_Sir? _Sir? Can I help you, sir?"

Sam jumped, looking over in the direction of the voice. A petite, freckled red-head leaned over the counter, one brow cocked. She wore a red polo, stretched tight over her curves, tucked into her black work slacks. Her eyelashes were long and thick, framing almond-shaped eyes, but Sam didn't even notice what color they were. He barely felt any stirring. Even as he ordered Dean's cherry pie with extra whipped cream and a coke for himself, he kept glancing over at his brother, worry laced deep in the hazel of his eyes.

She promised she'd bring out their order soon, and Sam absently nodded, placing his wallet back into the pocket of his jacket as he walked over and sat across from Dean. The sickly man looked over as he sat down, pulling his hands out of his pockets to lean his elbows on the table stiffly.

"So Sammy, when are you planning on telling me where you're takin' us?" he asked, both eyebrows raised over scrutinizing eyes. Sam suppressed a small smile.

"You'll know when we get there," he improvised. If Dean actually knew they were going to a church congregation, he'd be kicking and screaming and throwing a fit to not go. Dean frowned at him, eyes narrowing.

"It had better be good, then," he finally said. This time, Sam couldn't resist the smile.

"Oh, you'll have a blast," he said with a chuckle. Dean opened his mouth to retort, but just then, he seemed to catch sight of the red-headed cashier/waitress walking over with his pie. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Dean's pale lips stretched into a thin smile.

"Here you are, boys," the woman said as she set down the tray. Sam noticed what she actually looked like in more detail now, appreciating her curves and plump lips with his eyes. He gave a nod of thanks, and Dean piped up.

"Thanks, sugar," Dean purred, finding it in him to wink at her. She looked over at him, her smile fading a bit when she saw the condition the flirty man was in. It must be more obvious than Sam thought that Dean belonged in a hospital bed (which he'd fucking checked himself out of, damn him) rather than flirting in a diner. She nodded hesitantly and gathered up the tray in her blue-nailed hands.

"Right. Let me know if you need anything," she said, giving Sam her more charming smile before she scuttled off. When the younger Winchester looked back at Dean, he was surprised. If the man noticed her disinterest in him, he wasn't showing it.

Dean gave Sam a smile and eyebrow raise- his signature thing- as he slid the pie to him and gathered up the fork. Sam took a sip of his coke as Dean took a large bite of his pie, which was steaming and, even though Sam didn't much like sweets, admittedly smelled and looked rather mouthwatering.

_"Mmmmmmm," _Dean hummed as he chewed, eyes closed in bliss. "This is some good pie."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, I'd appreciate it if you didn't act like you were having an orgasm every time you eat a pie. It's embarrassing."

Dean's eyes opened again, containing a bit more life than they had before. "Can't help it. I call 'em as I taste 'em," he said through a mouthful of his second bite of pie. Sam sighed, pulling out his phone to check the time. They had an hour to get to the congregation, or they might miss their chance.

After a while of Dean working through his pie and Sam tapping his foot impatiently, he heard Dean mumble something he didn't quite catch. He raised a brow at his brother. "What?"

"I said," Dean swallowed his pie, "I'm gonna miss this." Sam pressed his lips into a tight line.

"Dean, stop it. I told you to cut out saying stuff like that. You're gonna be fine, okay?"

Dean pretended not to hear him, merely taking more bites out of his pie. Sam's jaw was tight as he watched his sickly brother eat, drumming his fingers on the table and throwing back his coke like beer.

Eventually Dean finished his pie, grabbed what was left of Sam's coke and drank it. He let out a loud burp, causing Sam's face to twist in disgust. They stood in unison, Dean struggling a bit, but the pie- if Sam didn't know any better- seemed to give him some strength. Like some kind of weird pie medicine. Again he opened the door for Dean, and stood next to him while he slowly maneuvered himself into the car.

Sam made his way to the driver's side, slid in and started up the Impala, turning around to back up. As he turned back around, he caught Dean looking at the moon again, that same quiet resignation in the stone-like features of his face. The moon took away the life the pie and given him, sucking it up like a cold vampire, leaving Dean looking more like a shell than himself.

Sam turned to the road and floored the acceleration. They had thirty minutes now to get to the congregation. And Sam sure as hell was not going to let his brother die just because of a stupid heart failure.


	3. 3- Blissful Silence

_"Hey Saaaaaaam."_

He pressed harder on his pen, digging it into the paper so the scratch of it on the table would drown out that stupid, annoying voice that tore up terrifying memories inside his skull.

_"Saaaaaam! Pay attention to me!" _

He grit his teeth now, grinding them together in his mouth as he wrote furiously, copying an important document Dean had brought home from the library. In the back of his head, he noticed his big brother had entered the room and was doing something behind him in the kitchen, but Sam was concentrating too hard on expelling Lucifer from his head that he didn't hear Dean asking if he wanted to take a break and grab something to eat.

_"SamSamSamSamSamSamSam—" _

His hand wound from falling on cut glass was regrettably starting to heal to the point where he could no longer use it to remind himself what was real and what wasn't. It was progressively getting worse, these hallucinations again, and Sam didn't know what to do, he just wanted to finish this damn paper—

_"Saaaam, talk to me! I'm so bor—" _

He'd been so far gone that he hadn't noticed Dean come up behind him, curling his calloused fingers into the hair at the bottom of his neck close to his scalp. He hissed when Dean pulled sharply, reaching behind him to grab his brother's hand and push it away out of reflex. Dean let go without a fuss, and when Sam turned to look up at him he saw concern rather than irritation woven in the green of Dean's eyes.

"Still with me, Sammy?" he asked with a frown, and Sam blinked, knowing now what Dean had been doing. He turned back to where Lucifer had been lounging in the chair next to him, and sighed in relief when he saw the blonde devil was gone, and in his place was a reassuring emptiness. He wasn't still in the Pit, being Lucifer's bitch. He was with Dean and Bobby. He was home, with family.

Sam nodded and huffed, running a hand through his steadily growing hair. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he said, thin brows furrowing in honesty as he looked back up at Dean, who hesitated a moment, eyes searching his before he nodded curtly and placed a cold beer by Sam's elbow and sat in the seat where Lucifer had been moments ago.

There was quiet for a few seconds, Sam watching his brother pop open his beer and take the first swig, drinking it down as if it were water and not alcohol. Dean took a minute to notice the younger Winchester's staring, but when he did he made a face. "What're you lookin' at?" he gruffed, spinning his bottle in his hand.

Sam shook his head, the corners of his lips tilting into a small smile. "Nothing, just… Thanks." Dean stared at him for a moment before he shrugged, taking another drink of bitter beer. "Don't mention it."

Sammy nodded, turning back to his document immediately and started writing again before Dean teased him about being mushy and girly or called him Samantha. It was quiet, Dean pulling out his laptop and plugging in his headphones, settling them on his head to watch some anime porn. Sam let out a long breath through his nose, the tenseness in his shoulders he hadn't realized was there releasing. The silence was blissful.


End file.
